Bring me my bow of burning gold, bring me my arrows of desire. And I’ll bring you the hide of Patricia McKeever, the internet Torquemada of Scottish Catholic gaydom. Ms McKeever, of Catholic Truth is, as reported in The Times yesterday , a one-person outing operation, determined how to start a business o uncover closeted cassock-lifters, to drag them shrieking and naked from their metaphorical priests’ holes and thereby to cleanse the Church. Ms McKeever has restored me to myself, reminding me – at an age when I expend my passions carefully – of just what it is in the public sphere that makes me most angry. It’s the gap – the abyss – between the stated reason for the actions of the world’s McKeevers and their real (if hidden) motives that so appals. Why does Ms M send letters and e-mails to priests and seminarians whom she suspects of going to gay clubs? Why does she demand of an Edinburgh clergyman to know whether he is a homosexual? Ostensibly to “raise awareness of the problem . . . ultimately to ensure the safety of others in the Church. Not just the physical safety of children, important though that is, but also the spiritual safety of people and congregations entrusted to the care of a homosexual priest or bishop.” She is no relative, naturally, to the poison pen writer, or to the persecutors of imaginary backsliding converted Jews or secret Trotskyists. She doesn’t send her missives, of course, for the pleasure of it, for the excuse to think and talk dirty in the name of purity.

Connecticut Law Tribune - June 8, 2007 (This column comes on the heels of the recent Second Circuit Decision regarding pro bono fees, as a I promised.) It's been a year since I read an Illinois Supreme Court ruling regarding mandatory pro bono reporting and I'm still feeling claustrophobic as the legal universe we are permitted to function in gets smaller and smaller. That state's new rule, celebrating it's one year anniversary this month, requires lawyers to "annually report their pro-bono activities, including hours worked and any money contributed to pro-bono efforts." The rationale behind the rule is that, by having to report what they do (or don't do) by way of pro bono work or financial gifts to recognized legal aid organizations, lawyers will somehow be shamed into actually doing some, or do more than they're already doing. It doesn't take a genius to see where this is really going. Although structured as simply a confidential email faxes eporting program for the purpose of accruing an aggregate total of pro bono hours, lawyers who fail to report their numbers to Illinois authorities face possible suspension of their law licenses. With this framework in place, if actual pro bono hours do not increase in a voluntary fashion, is it really a stretch to see pro bono work being mandated in order to continue practicing in the state of Illinois? (Note: Illinois is home to the American Bar Association.

Bring me my bow of burning gold, bring me my arrows of desire. And I’ll bring you the hide of Patricia McKeever, the internet Torquemada of Scottish Catholic gaydom. Ms McKeever, of Catholic Truth is, as reported in The Times yesterday , a one-person outing operation, determined to uncover closeted cassock-lifters, to drag them shrieking power generator nd naked from their metaphorical priests’ holes and thereby to cleanse the Church. Ms McKeever has restored me to myself, reminding me – at an age when I expend my passions carefully – of just what it is in the public sphere that makes me most angry. It’s the gap – the abyss – between the stated reason for the actions of the world’s McKeevers and their real (if hidden) motives that so appals. Why does Ms M send letters and e-mails to priests and seminarians whom she suspects of going to gay clubs? Why does she demand of an Edinburgh clergyman to know whether he is a homosexual? Ostensibly to “raise awareness of the problem . . . ultimately to ensure the safety of others in the Church. Not just the physical safety of children, important though that is, but also the spiritual safety of people and congregations entrusted to the care of a homosexual priest or bishop.” She is no relative, naturally, to the poison pen writer, or to the persecutors of imaginary backsliding converted Jews or secret Trotskyists. She doesn’t send her missives, of course, for the pleasure of it, for the excuse to think and talk dirty in the name of purity.

A couple of weeks back at that APG talk , I met an interesting chap called David, one of the very few who braved the Tuesday night to come out drinking afterwards. [Note to planners - You need to come out drinking more. That's how you meet the interesting people. Seriously, it was like pulling teeth. I know it was a Tuesday in January but that's no excuse. I may have to start some kind of booze, evening based analogue of the coffee mornings. Booze evenings.] We had a chat and he told me about his theory of Sad-vertising, which I found very interesting. In an Admap article, and now on his blog , he posits that negative emotions are underutilised in advertising: Sad-vertising spurns the convention of using mobile micropayments pbeat positivity to stimulate trivial, fluffy emotions in the consumer. Rather it embraces a downbeat tone which flies in the face of superficiality, acknowledging that people, emotions and real life are a confusing mess of ups and downs, all blended into one and nonetheless enjoyable, meaningful and powerful for it. David has already managed to get Eric du Plessis, of The Advertised Mind and Millward Brown , into the conversation - head over to Feel Anything to check it out. When I spoke to David I mentioned his thinking resonates strongly with some ideas that my mate Adam, from Naked Down Under, has been developing [both Adam and David are trained psychologists - I suspect this is unlikely to be a coincidence].

_sales_ peer to peer networking

Tomorrow I head down to Monterey for the TED conference. I look forward to TED all year. It is a fantastic chance to catch up with old friends, meet some really interesting new ones and exercise my brain and my imagination. But, as with TEDs of the past, I find myself stuck -- I am at a loss for what to pack. Not because the weather is unpredictable (although Monterey in March is a bit unpredictable). Rather, I find myself thinking, "What does one wear to meet Paul Simon?" "What does one wear to meet President Clinton?" "What does one wear to meet John Maeda?" Perhaps I'm the only one asking myself these questions, but I'm guessing not. It would be hard to think that how one dresses is irrelevant at a conference with "design" in its name. The only guidance the TED organization gives you is this -- "Dress code, as ever, is casual." OK, so I can rule out my tuxedo. But that leaves a whole lot of other possible outfits. If I were to meet with Larry Lessig, I would likely dress differently than if I were to meet with Will Wright. If I were to meet with EO Wilson, I would likely dress differently protect social security han if I were to meet with Maira Kalman. If I were to meet with Richard Branson, I would likely dress differently than if I were to meet with Tracy Chapman. So you can see my conundrum. What is appropriate dress for the TED conference? One thing is for certain. The answer to this question appears to be different for pretty much every TEDster.

Click Here